My Pink Slime Dime

Firm and Round, plus fully cooked, The Hamburger is here to stay, Now that Pink Slime has you spooked, Price should soar, most any day.

Far too soon, there comes the day,
When Pink Slime will be a treat,
The lucky people who find a way,
To obtain, will be eating meat.

The other folks, on hunger's list,
Must scrounge, and dig for worms,
A clean drink, be from morning mist,
Hunger so deep, we'll eat germs.

The wall, has writing on it,
Soon, food-well may run dry,
Starve until your clothes don't fit,
God's Prophecy doesn't lie.

Pink Slime is, yes, finely-ground,
Pieces of unwanted critter parts,
normally fed to dogs at Pound,
That dine with happy hearts.

Processes, now perfected,
Makes it pleasing to the eye,
Quite tasty, when exacted,
In a blended Burger pie.

Pink Slime, to mean: 'detestable,'
Extends what we think 'quality,'
Burger-meat so to be able,
To feed more people, handily.

Nutrition loss is Zero,
Burger firm when cooked,
Until a Chefish-Nero,
Called it 'Slime,' and then 'Booked.'

Fresh made it looks detestable,
No one would fry a tube of it,
Or place it on the table,
Nor be hungry where they sit.

So, let the experts mix the meat,
Into a blend that pleases eye,
Unless you refuse to ever eat,
Another Burger pie.

Perhaps that's why I am fat, today,
I remember deep starvation,
Before Birthday 'One' could ever play,
I was blessed by the Depression.

Should you have no memory,
Of hunger, while cold in bed,
You're part of 'Blessed' history,
Try saying 'Blended, cooked' instead.

AMEN